ENSLAVED

Our colour was our crime;
we lost our freedom, our vision, our voice.
Everyday we live, everyday we die.
We walk and work the path of uncertainties,
as tomorrow was not ours to decide.

Working with the padlocks.
Padlocks that prevented us from yielding,
not even the dividends of our labour.
The holes a constant reminder
we are not ours, we are properties.
For us, we ride or we die.

Night after night,
the cold at its freezing point…
…and the unbearable heat that follows.
No rightful warming of the bed like before.
No one to cleanse the sweat off my able chest.

Families torn apart.
Wives dignity turn apart!
In tears we lost counts.
We were best kept sequestered.
We wallowed in our discomfort,
as the white masters pleased.
For we have learnt the hard lesson,
from some “monkeys” used as scapegoats.

Such was our days…
Even silence was a crime,
and breathing, an act of mercy.
Caged like animals.
The whip kept us in check,
satisfying our need for revenge

The chains on our neck dragged us down;
The weight of our buddies kept us up.
Their holy books and religious ordinances
gave credence to the ungodly act.

Now we have freedom!
Freedom to speak their language
and worship the god of the white.
For our powerful idols are “barbaric”.
This is our freedom:
We are slaves, slaves forever.

©Abel Adive
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